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by missdibley



Series: The Red Nose Diaries [59]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Existing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Makeup Sex, Smut, the red nose diaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8775319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: Another instance of reunion and reconciliation for Tom, just returned from a mission to South Sudan for UNICEF, and Carmen, who is still re-establishing herself in his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kind of Blue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4653450) by [missdibley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley). 



_Make me a willow cabin at your gate_  
_And call upon my soul within the house._  
_Write loyal cantons of contemned love_  
_And sing them loud even in the dead of night._  
Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

 _But this estranged organ in my chest_  
_Still beats for you_  
_It will not rest, so_  
_Meet me in our secret place_  
_When the time has come_  
The Swell Season, I Have Loved You Wrong

* * *

Tom Hiddleston was in the back seat of a black SUV barreling into town from Heathrow. He lay on on his side, head placed awkwardly upon a makeshift pillow made from his folded up coat. It took some effort to keep his eyes open, despite the three espressos he’d bolted right before landing. The rhythm of the car, with the _shush_ it made as it passed other vehicles, the late hour, and the blinking lights of streetlamps as they whirred past, all conspired to rock him to sleep.

“Sir?”

And then Tom was awake, startled from an all-too-brief nap. They were parked just in front of his house. The car door had already been opened, ready for him to step through and begin the walk up to his own front door. Fumble for keys, pull in bags, tip the driver, then stagger upstairs to his own bed.

His own empty bed.

“Perry?”

The driver nodded at Tom. “Yes, Mr. Hiddleston.”

“Erm, actually, I wonder if you could actually bring me elsewhere?”

“Of course, sir.” Perry glanced at the back of the car. “Shall I bring the bags in first?”

Tom shook his head. “No, thank you. I’ll bring them along.”

“Very good.” Perry shut the car door, then got behind the wheel again and started the engine. He glanced in the rear view mirror, quietly waiting for instruction.

Before Tom shut his eyes again, he dialed a number on his phone, stifling a yawn as the other party answered.

“Are you up?” he whispered.

Somewhere across town, in a cozy flat just south of the river, Carmen snuggled her familiar stuffed mouse.

“What time is it, Baby?”

“Late,” replied Tom, his voice low and hoarse.

“Just landed?”

“Yeah.”

Carmen smiled to herself. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks, Car.”

“So is this a booty call, then?” She couldn’t help laughing.

“Pardon?”

“Tom, you know _‘Are you up?’_ is code for _‘Can I come over for a hookup?’_ , right?”

“I just want to sleep.”

“Alright,” whispered Carmen.

“Can I…?”

“You remember the address?”

“I do.”

“See you in a bit.”

Thirty minutes later Carmen stood in the doorway, watching Tom and Perry bring the bags up the short flight of stairs to her flat. She shivered in a thin robe, pulled on hastily when she popped out of bed to welcome him to her home.

“Can I offer you coffee? Tea?” She took a few steps in the direction of her postage stamp-sized kitchen, squinting at the refrigerator as she tried to remember its contents. “A beer?”

“No thank you, miss,” Perry said with a shy smile. “Goodnight.” He made a small bow, then departed, closing the door behind him.

Before she could hug Tom hello, he took Carmen by the hand to lead her away from the kitchen, not stopping until they reached her bedroom. Tom lifted the duvet, kissing her on the temple as she shrugged off her robe and then get in.

The cozy blue jumper and the t-shirt he wore underneath were the first to go as he undressed, then his jeans. His shoes were kicked off and pushed into the corner. Clad only in grey boxer briefs and blue socks, Tom had just enough energy to crawl over a laughing Carmen before he joined her underneath.

“Feel that?” He rubbed one of his feet between her bare legs. “No more cold feet.”

“Hmm?” She lay on her back, eyes shut as she relished the extra heat he brought to her bed. “That’s lovely.”

“Tired, love?” Tom found himself entranced by the sight of her chest rising and falling as she breathed, and then her lips as they parted with every exhalation.

Carmen smiled. “Yeah.”

Tom settled even further, face tucked into the crook of her neck. He set his left hand on her bare stomach, having pushed up slightly the familiar blue t-shirt of his that she wore to sleep in.

“‘Night, Button.” Tom hummed when he felt Carmen turn her head and kiss his brow.

“Sleep well, Baby.” She scooted down a bit so she could embrace him slightly. “Just…” She yawned. “Sleep. Now.”

When Tom awoke at 8:00 the next morning, he found himself face to face with Carmen’s stuffed mouse. Lying on the pillow beside him, the creature weighed down a piece of paper — a note for Tom.

> _T_
> 
> _extra set of keys in junk drawer (kitchen) if/when you want to go_
> 
> _but stay as long as you like - make yourself at home_
> 
> _xo - C_

Tom put the kettle on after a quick trip to the loo. When he emerged from the bathroom, he took in his surroundings while he waited for the water.

The lounge was sparsely furnished though the couch and armchair that sat beside it appeared to be expensive, solid and well-upholstered. He didn’t recognize the plain bookshelves but was cheered by the sight of her books arranged haphazardly upon them. A framed vintage poster for _The Way We Were_ was propped up on the mantel, and in the windows were her family pictures that he remembered as having had decorated his own home.

His tea now ready, Tom took it back to her bed, slipping under the covers and tucking Boh the little mouse in beside him. He found his phone under a pillow and dialed.

“Hello.” Carmen sounded cheerful, if a bit sleepy still.

“Good morning, love. I’m still at yours.”

“Really?” There was amusement in her voice. “Not that I mind, but whatever for?”

“What do you mean, whatever for?” He smiled.

“Your house is so much nicer! That’s home, with all of your books and your big big bed. Did you sleep okay last night? I think my mattress is just a little too soft for you.”

“It was lovely,” replied Tom. “Thank you for letting me sleep over.”

“It was my pleasure,” said Carmen. “Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Was the trip…?” She took a breath. “Did everything go okay? I know you said in your emails that it went well. And that the UNICEF people were pleased.”

“But?” Tom sipped his tea, savoring the heat of the liquid as he held it in his mouth.

“You… you were talking in your sleep.” Carmen spoke in a hush. “I couldn’t make it out, the words. But you sounded worried. Scared.”

“I’m sorry, love.”

“Don’t be sorry, Baby.”

“It’s just… it was surreal, being there again. Seeing the effects of the brutality of war on families that want nothing more to be safe, go home.” Tom rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I wish I could do more. More than just play with the children, listen to people tell me about their lives, then come back here and hope a few minutes on the BBC is helpful.”

“It is, or it will be, Tom,” exclaimed Carmen.

“Will it?”

“Yes, it is.” She was reassuring. “You’re helping these displaced people tell their story. Show the rest of the callous world the reality of war, and the devastation of it. You with your gift for storytelling and your big, big heart.”

“You flatter me, Car.”

“It’s the truth, Tom” said Carmen sweetly. “Besides, if I were trying to flatter you, then I’d tell you how hot you looked in your UNICEF t-shirt in that picture you sent.”

“Carmen!” Tom’s cheeks grew warm.

“I can see it now.” She sounded dreamy. “I bet the crew got a few shots of you walking around in your sturdy boots, a look of concern with just the right amount of righteous indignation on your ruggedly handsome face.”

“Enough!” Tom shook his head, but laughed just the same. “How was your trip home?”

“Entirely too short,” Carmen sighed. “But I got to see Hamilton, finally. And Mom told me I looked like I gained weight before she stuffed me full of deep fried turkey…”

“Deep fried turkey? Tom tutted. “You Americans fry everything.”

“That wasn’t the only thing we fried,” drawled Carmen. “There was lumpia.”

Tom moaned. “Please tell me…”

“Yes, there are five frozen baggies of lumpia in the freezer.”

He closed his eyes, a satisfied grin on his face. “Yessss.”

Carmen laughed. “Leave me at least one for supper tonight.”

“You should have thought of that before you left me in your flat, just me and the delicious contents of your freezer…” Tom sang. “Now where do you keep the oil in your kitchen?”

“Dammit, Hiddleston! I’m coming home early!” Carmen cried.

“Promise?” Tom smirked.

“If I have to defend my lumpia supply against the likes of you and your monstrous appetite?” She snorted. “You can count on it.”

Carmen made it home just after tea, the winter sun low in the sky as she emerged from the tube station. Though Tom said that she needn’t bring anything, she grabbed a pint of chocolate ice cream from the market on the way home.

He took it out of her hands and set it on the counter as soon as she made it through the door. The ice cream sat, rings of water condensing around its base, while he drew her into his arms.

Carmen was immediately relieved of her jacket and briefcase as Tom kissed her. She managed to push off her shoes on her own, just in time for him to walk her backwards into her bedroom. With a laugh, they sank unceremoniously onto the foot of the bed and continued their snogging.

“The ice cream…” she murmured when Tom’s lips found the sweet spot behind her left ear. “Melting…”

“Then we’ll have chocolate soup,” he muttered before sucking on the lobe.

Carmen nuzzled his face, cooing when she felt Tom’s beard on her cheek. When he turned to kiss her upon the mouth, she shook her head.

“No!” Her protest was mild. “Nuzzle, please. I demand more scritches.”

He growled when she ran her fingers up and down his jaw. “You like that, then?”

“Yes,” whispered Carmen. “I do.”

When Tom tried to kiss her again, she did not refuse him. Nor did she object when he brought his hands up to her breasts, massaging them slowly over her clothes. Carmen pressed into his hands, gaspng when his fingers brushed her taut nipples, which were so responsive to his touch.

“Tom, I…” Carmen tried to help, to give instruction, but there were his warm lips on her own. His tongue was insistent, probing as he kissed her deeply. The kiss was broken when she jumped in surprise, startled by his cool hands on her bare breasts. When was she relieved of her blouse? How did he get the clasp at the back of her bra? She didn’t wonder for long, eager as she was for his attention. Tom shifted, removing his own clothes before covering her body with his.

He nipped at the crook of her neck, then her delicate throat. One hand cradled her head, presenting her mouth to him as he desired, while the other moved on from the swell of her bosom down to her impossibly soft tummy. He tutted at the welt that encircled her just above the hip, a red impression left behind by the skirt and stockings that he had just pulled off.

“Oh, Button,” sighed Tom as he lifted his head to peer at her. He pushed his lip out when he saw a matching welt under her breasts, made by her bra. “Does that hurt?”

Carmen shrugged, now idly running her fingers through his hair. “You get used to it.”

“Couldn’t you go without?” He murmured, frowning when she shook her head.

“I mean, I could…” She laughed softly. “My tits could be down by my knees this time next year if I did that.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to reach a bit further to get at them,” mused Tom.

Carmen smiled at the look of concern still on his face as examined the marks. “Stop stalling. Come to bed.”

Under the covers they were playful, tickling each other as they pushed off their underclothes. He was aroused — they both were — but Tom’s lust was temporarily diverted, sublimated by his need to feel Carmen. Not merely touch but memorize, mapping and retracing favoured routes from one delight to the next. But as much as he wanted to hurry, endeavouring as he was to make up for time that he took from them, Tom understood that there was a need for him to be deliberate. Reverent. Careful.

There was something about the way they were together in this moment that seemed easy and familiar. Not speaking so much as breathing each other in, laughing at nothing more than the pleasure they shared. Tom pushed up on his arms, sort of hovering above Carmen, who took the opportunity to hold his face in her hands and stroke his stubble with her thumbs.

“What is it?” She whispered, her voice low and urgent.

Tom didn’t answer right away, moving to the head of the bed where he was able to sit up. He held his arms open, waiting for her to curl up, her head placed just so on his chest. He was at peace when she placed her hand on his stomach.

“Ask me what I did today,” he whispered.

“Tom, what did you do today?”

He kissed the top of her head. “I thought of you.”

“Oh.” Carmen nodded. “Because you missed me, right?”

He shook his head. “I did, but that’s not all.”

“What else?” Carmen’s breath hitched, causing Tom to hug her gently.

“After we talked on the phone, I drank tea. Lay in this very bed with Boh. Looking around your room, I couldn’t remember the last time I was in a home that wasn’t just mine or ours but yours.”

Her nose wrinkled as she cast a quick look around the room. “It could use a little sprucing up, eh? Most of my stuff is still in storage. I rented this place so fast, I wasn’t sure…” Carmen stopped herself.

Tom nodded, then hugged her again, this time tightly. “I’m so…”

“Don’t.” Carmen lifted her head to look at him, her dark eyes wide with concern. “You’ve already apologized enough.”

“I’m not entirely convinced of that but for the time being, let’s say that is true.”

“Gee, thanks,” muttered Carmen.

“Last night, when I got in…” Tom stared ahead of him. “That long flight, and I was knackered so I dozed off in the car. And before I knew it, we were there. My house. The gate just within reach, and Perry about to fetch my bags. Coming back, it’s honestly my favourite part of any journey.” He shook his head. “But I couldn’t go in. I didn’t want to. I didn’t even try.”

“Why not?” Carmen’s voice was faint, almost imperceptible.

“Button, I… it was you. Something you told me, back when we met.” Tom looked down at her. “Not the first, but the second time we were together. Do you remember?”

“Of course I do, silly.” Carmen smiled at the cherished memory. “The blizzard, and the mix-up with the room at that lovely hotel.”

“The best part was when you brought me home. To your flat.”

“That was the best part?” She snorted. “Not the fancy room service? Or the naughty sleigh ride?” Carmen waggled her eyebrows. “What about all the S-E-X?”

“Now who’s being silly?” Tom hugged her. “Button, you made me comfortable, welcomed me into your home, into your life. I was a practically a stranger, but that didn’t stop you.”

“No, it didn’t.” Tears began to fall, but Carmen didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. “Because I liked you. I more than liked you.”

“Yes,” Tom murmured. “In fact, you loved me.”

“Did I?”

“You did,” he whispered.

“But Baby, I… we didn’t say it then. Not until…”

“Maybe not those exact three words, no,” replied Tom. “But you did say it. You showed me.”

She looked up at him again. “Remind me, love.”

Tom squeezed her. “You said, ‘This is what feels good. What feels right. You, Thomas, will always be welcome here. My home, whether it be here or elsewhere, wherever I am, will be yours.’ Did I ever tell you what those words meant to me? I never forgot them. They told me who you were, and who I was to you. It was a pledge, a vow that you never broke, not even when…” He choked back a sob. “They gave me hope, those words. A belief, no matter how improbable, that I could come back to you. Find my way home.”

“Oh Tom…” Carmen squeezed her eyes shut, but her tears still came. She pressed her face into his chest when she felt his lips on her brow.

Tom sighed. “When I felt alone, bereft. Ostracized. Because even when you told me I was wrong, that I hurt you… you never took it back. You gave those words to me, and didn’t take them back. The invitation. The promise. The love.”

Before he could continue, Carmen sat up. She didn’t dare look at him yet, preferring to look away while her tears ran down her face and fell onto the blanket that she clutched. She was overwhelmed by emotions but had no words left to speak. A shiver, then another, raced up her back and through her shoulders. Like the last few steps from the lonely cold outside right into the happy warmth of a place where she belonged, where someone was waiting to make her safe and welcome.

Helping her lie down, Tom sat and held Carmen’s hand while she collected herself. He wasn’t content to merely hold it but kiss it, his lips moving from her fingertips along her arm. He nibbled at the crook of her elbow, which seemed to him to be especially soft. Another nip at the shoulder, and then he sucked at the crook of her neck, laughing when she signaled her approval with a giggle.

Her mouth greeted his with a kiss, her tongue licking just inside his own lips. Grasping him around the nape of his neck, her fingers combed the curls and in doing so brought forth soft, low groans from him. Tom relaxed further, giving Carmen the full weight of his body as she spread her legs wider and wrapped them around his waist.

The sun was almost gone, but there was still just enough light in the bedroom for Tom to see her face, discern the love and the longing for him in her eyes. There was no breath, no laugh or sigh, that Carmen gave that Tom did not take. Traces of perfume lingered in her hair and on her breasts, anointing him with every brush of his lips.

All at once there was friction and connection, spurned by his arousal, transformed warmth into heat. A slow burn stoked by Tom’s insistence that every part of him had to touch every part of her. He slid down her body, rubbing his cheek against her breasts. Carmen had to laugh, the sandpapery stubble being so ticklish when it brushed her nipples. She grew quiet again when he lay his cheek on her belly, and found her sex with his gentle, probing fingers.

The rough scrape of his beard along the flesh of her inner thighs was a new exquisite torture, acting in concert with his sweet lips and wicked tongue. Tom held her, keeping her legs in place with his large hands even as he slowly licked up and down her folds. There was no relief for Carmen, not when he probed inside her with lavish sweeps before swirling his tongue around her clit. In her bed, as in all things in life, Tom was motivated by love. But this carnal worship, verging on the obscene, no doubt had lust to thank for its intensity and focus.

Carmen pleaded for mercy as she gripped tightly the curls upon his head that still remained between her legs. But Tom’s ministrations were relentless. He thought of nothing, felt everything — he was drunk on her. So when she came, calling his name and crying out, arching her back as her body released its tension, it still wasn’t enough for him.

He crept back up, running a hand up and down her thigh as she continued to shake in his arms. As Carmen’s sobs began to subside, she permitted herself to be kissed. She tasted herself on his lips, felt the evidence of her orgasm on his damp cheeks. She didn’t protest when he tugged her leg over his hip, and his hard cock pressed itself just under the swell of her buttocks. Her body ached but she wasn’t tired. Carmen rolled her hips, then took him in hand.

It was Tom’s turn to whimper. His turn to receive the gift of her touch, to yield as she stroked him. One brush of her thumb across the leaking tip of his cock, and he felt temporarily helpless. Carmen’s kisses to his jaw and to the corner of his mouth were delicate, a lovely contrast to the pressure she employed with her hand. She let go, only for a moment, capturing some of the essence from her own sex so she could stroke him. So deft was her grasp, her hand so small and soft as it massaged. Tom turned his head, desperate to taste her again, then thrust into her hand. She let him, strengthening her grasp, but only for a few more times. She didn’t want to delay him the joy of connection any longer.

He ground himself against her, his cock twitching when it brushed her clit. She gasped, then looked into his eyes. It was there that she saw her desire reflected back to her.

_Come here, love. Welcome home._

They breathed together, Tom entering her slowly upon their exhalation. Carmen’s eyes fluttered shut when she kissed him, the only thing she could manage while he began to move. Slowly and shallowly, the brief agony of pulling away only slightly mitigated by the sensation of her sex, for she clung to him both inside and out. And then he could push in again, where she enveloped him. She felt so good.

And it was so good. Better than before. Better than his first time. Surpassing the first time with her when they were just fucking, and the first time they properly made love as friends. Better than the first time after he knew he loved her, as well as the first time after he told her so. Better than the first time in his house, in his bed. Better than the first time after they got engaged, the first time after the New Year, that time in Berlin, his birthday, her birthday.

The last time they made love, before he left her, abandoned the home she had made for him in her heart.

Every time they had gone to bed since their reunion began had been on his part, consciously or not, an attempt at erasure of that last time. A way to deny what he had done, the pain he had caused. But it wasn’t until now, lost as he was in her love, that Tom realized how foolish he had been to think that was possible.

There was no point denying it. He could only learn, remember that once upon a time, he had been lost. Stumbling through a forest at the age of 8, or foolishly rushing forward when the allure of fame and validation went to his head. He got lost, he got scared and panicked. But then Tom screwed up his courage, looked inside and told himself that as long as he remembered who loved him, he would always find his way back.


End file.
